Enough is Enough
by Draith
Summary: The day has come when Shuuichi gives up trying to be perfect, and Youko goes on a killing spree. And the only one who can stop him is... not who you'd expect. Chapter SEVEN Posted! Rated for future content.
1. It Begins

Disclaimer:  I do not own Yu Yu Hakusho, or any of its characters, blah blah blah… you should know this from my other fic!  Anyways…

**A/N:**  This fic was conceptualized like, a month ago, even before my other story; but with James (The Undeniably Evil But Kinda Cute Puppet), Pierce's muse, being over, I've been inspired to write more on that than on Fast Food Fiasco… So yeah, here it starts.

Chapter One:  It Begins.

     They say that still water runs deep.  Well, the emotions and frustrations of Shuuichi Minamono ran especially far down.  On the outside, he was the perfect son, the perfect student, an ideal young man.  But inside, the part of him that was conscious of who he was, Youko, was merely waiting for his chance to break out and destroy everything in his path.

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     When it began, it was a day like any other.  Shuuichi got up on time, kissed his mother goodbye, and went off to school.  He always got good grades.  Even if it meant long nights of making up homework after missed classes while he was off with the Spirit Detective, Yuusuke Urameshi.  The schoolwork was relatively easy for Shuuichi, and it made his mother happy when he got good marks.

     But each day was just going through the motions.  And this day was no different; except Shuuichi felt it more acutely than ever.  Something was off.  Nothing seemed to be worth doing today.  

    _"After all, it is all a lie…"_ he thought to himself as he made his way home from another long day at school.  Shuuichi sighed.  He stopped at a small park to collect his thoughts before returning home.  The gardens in this park always seemed to settle his spirit when he was upset.

     Today, however, they seemed only to serve as a reminder of what he was, and fuel his unrest.

~~~~~*~~~~~*~~~~~*~~~~~

**A/N:**  I know, I know… "But Draith, you didn't get to the point of the story!"  Yeah, yeah, that's what CHAPTERS are for.  And vague is fun!  ^__~  I'm still working on finishing my other fic, so give me a break, greedy monkeys!!  Yeah, I wouldn't be posting this yet, except James kept giving me more ideas, and I couldn't take his pestilence anymore.  * sigh *  Yeah, so, **Please** Read and Review, and hey, give me ideas if you want.   Oh, and _did I spell his name right?!_   Ja ne!


	2. Boiling Point

     Here we go, James helped me with this, wonderfully adorable evil muse that he is… Ok, I know, "adorable" and "evil" don't seem to fit… but you haven't seen James!! ^__^

     **WARNING**:  The following Fan Fiction **may** not be suitable for all readers, and **may** contain violence and/or language or things that parents **might** not wish their children to see… in other words, viewer/reader discretion is _advised_.  Hey, it is a death/dark fic, people… get over it!

**A/N:**  This story is yaoi free.  I chose not to include it.  If this is not your type of story, then you have the almighty amazing "Back" button, and do not _have_ to read it.  Otherwise, Enjoy!  

Disclaimer:  I do not own Yu Yu Hakusho or any of the wonderful characters therein.  They belong to the wondiferous Yoshihiro Togashi and Shonen Jump comics, and all those wonderful legal people who yell at me when I forget to mention these things.  So, onward then…  

Chapter 2:   Boiling Point

     Shuuichi sat on the bench in the park.  When he thought it over, the day had not been that unusual.

     _No, not the day.  I am the one who is different._  He watched a family walk by on the path... a father, a mother, and two small children, a boy and a girl.  They all looked happy.  The perfect nuclear family; a thing Shuuichi Minnamono would never truly know.  He and his mother had always been alone.  Though soon she would marry another man, with a boy whose name matched his own… matched his human name, that is.  _Heh, she would not even miss you now, Kurama.  She has another Shuuichi to love and care for.  _He shook his head to clear it.  No, that was wrong.  He stood up and headed back towards home.  

     Everything just had to be so complicated…  He rubbed his temples.  School had been a typical routine.  Teachers, classes, homework, and groups of girls swarming him, asking him for help, study dates, dates, anything the boy could gives, they'd zap away from him quicker than the blink of an eye.  Today they had mobbed him as usual.  He had made as many promises as he could, as he always did, but as always happened, he ended up sending most of the girls away.  

     However polite and friendly he appeared to his admirers, inside he always groaned inwardly when the crowds approached him.  Still, he gave his greetings.  Still, he made his promises.  Still, he doled out smiles that made them swoon with a promise to return the next day and perform the same custom all over again.  _Whoever thought that being a human could have these difficulties?_ he mused as he approached his apartment.  

     He opened the door, and headed inside.  He could already smell the ramen cooking for dinner.  He sighed.  He never told anyone how much the girls disgusted him.  Sure, attention from females was not a bad thing, but seeing them so clingy and so desperate for returned attention from him that they practically threw themselves literally at him turned his stomach.  

     His mother, Shiori, smiled at him from the kitchen as he sat down at the table.  "Did you have a good day, Shuuichi?" she asked with a look of genuine interest and care on her face.  

     Shuuichi forced a smile at the woman.  "Yes," he answered.  "I had a very good day, 'kaasan."  He did not care if this was mostly a lie, he cared enough for the woman to wish to see her happy at least once in a while.  

     They ate in silence.  It was a peaceful silence, Shiori seemed happy just to be with her son.  _A front,_ he thought idly as they ate.  _All a front to sneak the others in while I am not looking…_  When they had finished, Shuuichi helped his mother clean and put away the dishes before he went to his room to start on his homework; the same as he did everyday.

     Soon, however, his mother called from downstairs.  "Shuuichi, there's a young lady here to see you!" her tone was not one of surprise, or even eager interest, it was something they both had become accustomed to, though Shiori still loved it when another girl showed interest in her son.  

     He put down his homework book and took a deep breath of preparation for the next few hours of torture by attention.  Ironic, yes, but so was everything about his life.  He finally deemed himself ready to deal with the trial, and called out to his mother for her to send the girl on up.  _I wonder who it is today,_ he thought.  _Shuuichi makes so many appointments; I can hardly keep track of them all anymore.  _

     He found out a minute later when a shy, but beautiful 16-year-old girl entered his room from the hallway.  One never had to wonder what one would find, entering Shuuichi Minnamono's room.  He kept it exceptionally simple and completely neat.  The girls who begged for study dates found him nearly too perfect to be true.  In truth, he was…and he knew it.  

     He smiled genuinely at the girl.  "Konnichiwa, Kira-chan!" he greeted her warmly.

     She grinned shyly in return.  "Konnichiwa, Shuuichi-sama," she responded as she stood in the doorway, waiting for an invitation it seemed.

     _Beautiful, maybe, but they take so much effort to entertain._  He gestured for the girl to come in, and she immediately complied, rushing inside, placing her book bag on the floor and getting out her homework.  _So, it is a study date then, _he thought.  _Good._   They seemed to go much more smoothly than any other engagement Shuuichi pledged himself to make.  Perhaps it was simply the fact that a steady flow of conversation surrounding homework served as a buffer, never allowing awkward silences where the girls would always seem to get extremely nervous around him.  

     The two had just begun on their studies when Shiori knocked on the doorframe, peeking through the open doorway.  "I have to run to the store for a while, kids, so have fun and behave while I'm gone.  Oh, and feel free to raid the fridge, there are plenty of snacks!" she said, smiling pleasantly at them both.  

     They each nodded in return, thanking her and effectively sending her off on her errands, leaving them alone in the apartment to study in peace.  The homework in question covered several subjects, though Shuuichi had no problem assisting Kira with every question or problem she had.  This was at least the fifth time that Kira had come by to study with him, and each time she seemed to have several of the same questions to ask.  He knew she was often just making excuses, and he did not mind completely, though at times the redundancy of the afternoons would annoy him.  

     After a while of solid study, they took a break and Shuuichi headed to the kitchen to get a snack for them both.  When he returned with drinks and some fruit, Kira was stretching from sitting for so long a time, and gazing out his bedroom window.  He set down the food on his desk and watched her for a moment.  She did not notice him right away, so he just stood silently.

     After a minute or so, Kira finally realized that her mentor had returned, and looked back at him, smiling.  "You have a nice view, Shuuichi-sama."  Though the comment sounded innocent enough, he had a feeling she was not just talking about the window.  This was also evident by the slight blush on her cheeks.  

     He merely smiled in return, taking the compliment for all its possible meaning.  With the look in her eyes, and her total ignorance of the snack he had brought back, he could guess that her shyness earlier was probably more an act than reality.  

     When he stayed standing still where he was, she walked over to him, stopping far enough away so that he would not back up, but close enough that she could touch him if she wanted.  She smiled at him in a not-quite seductive way, and spoke softly, "I just wanted to thank you for helping me out lately."  

     Shuuichi listened to the sound of her voice, and knew that she had another method of recognition in mind than a spoken thank you.  But instead of responding in kind, as he was tired and still getting over his daily swoon fest at the high school, he simply nodded politely, and replied, "It is no trouble, Kira-chan, I'm happy to help," and smiled again.  Thoughts inside him fought in his mind.  Half of him was weary of the game, hoping for an excuse to escape; and the other half simply told him to let her continue, as a little fun never harmed anyone.  

     Seeming to be satisfied that she had spoken enough words, Kira stepped closer to him and leaned up slightly to kiss him tentatively.  Sensing no resistance, she placed a hand on the back of his neck, and another on his waist, to make sure he would not get away easily.  When he held her head in his hands, she would have smirked, had she not been otherwise occupied at the time.

     _Yes, Kurama, kiss the girl.  What good is it being human, if you never have any fun?_  

     He tried to ignore his thoughts, tried to think about his mother returning, that he should stop, and let Kira go home. 

     _If she annoys you that badly, then get rid of her._  

     Did the two halves of his mind really agree just then?  Would the intense presence in him allow him to send the girl away?  He continued kissing Kira, not sure of what decision he should make.  Unaware of his inner turmoil, Kira stepped even closer to Shuuichi.

     He held her head gently, thumbs resting at her jaw line, fingers on the sides of her neck.  He did not fully want to let her go… not yet.  The darker half of his psyche seemed to laugh at him, mockingly.  _Did you think I meant to let her go home, Kurama?  _This caught the boy off guard.  Surely, this was the only thing he COULD have meant?

     _No… my words were, get rid of her.  She annoys you, I can tell… She has had her fun, now end her life when she least expects it.  You will feel better… I promise.  _

     Shuuichi could not believe what he was hearing, his eyes opened wide, and he had to concentrate to not break his contact with Kira.  He closed his eyes again, trying to ignore the fading, repetitive echoes of the whispered command…

     _Kill her._

     As if of their own accord, his fingers flexed further around the girl's neck.  She took this as a caress, and her own fingers seemed to massage the back of his neck.  She again was oblivious as his thumbs moved off her jaw and down towards the front of her throat.  Indeed, it was not until he pressed on her throat, and squeezed slightly at her neck that Kira seemed to sense that something was wrong.  She paused, and tried to pull away, but the redhead was too strong for her, and she could not move.

     _That's it…yes…Just a little more…_

 He at last gave up ignoring the authoritative voice, and began to squeeze the girl's neck in earnest.  She struggled for a few minutes as the hands that just moments ago were delivering soft caresses slowly crushed her airway.  She whimpered and cried out into his mouth, but he did not let go.  

     _So pathetic… silence her._

Kira beat against his back, trying to scream with all the strength that was left in her.  She could not, however, as his hands were steadily draining her very life from her, and he still held his lips to hers, effectively silencing her as commanded.  

     It was not long before the girl gave up her struggle, and sighed slightly, relaxing and then going limp in his hands.  He then broke the kiss, looking down at her still beautiful face, now forever with a peaceful yet confused expression on her soft features.  Still holding her by her neck, he moved her over to lie listlessly on his bed.  

     _There… was that so hard, _Kurama_?  After all… that IS who you are… Not human, not Youko… the space in-between.  The loner.  Now… don't you feel better?_

     Kurama heard the voice, but seemed to ignore its question.  He settled Kira's clothes and hair as if she were asleep, and stared at her.  He stayed standing there beside the bed that held the dead girl's body for what seemed like forever.  

     So lost was he in his own thoughts, he never even noticed that his mother had returned, and was watching from the doorway, not daring to believe what she saw in front of her.  She saw the girl's limp limbs, her expression, deathly pale skin, and worst of all, her son standing beside the girl, unmoving, transfixed.

     A murderer.

     A curious strand of emotions floated through Kurama's mind.  Despite the body beside him, the deed behind him, the possible retribution before him, he felt a sense of release… freedom.  _Yes…_ he mused, in thoughts of his own making.  __

_     I do feel better._

~~~~~*~~~~~*~~~~~

**A/N:**   Ok, I know… it took me FOREVER!  Sorry…  .  Hope this was sinister enough for you all, I'll try to write/update A.S.A.P.  Please review, flame me if I bored you, tell me what you liked/hated!  

   Special thanks to James… such a great evil muse! ^__^ Sorry all you authors and authoresses out there, James is taken.  Pierce, he may be your muse… but he's MINE!  * grins and giggles*  ^__~

-Draith


	3. Consequences

**A/N:**  This is probably the longest I've ever gone before updating a story.  All I can say is, I'm so sorry!  This fic was the last on my priority list, and for that I am ashamed.  It's hard for me to write this type of fiction, so it got put on the back burner.  Thank you, those of you who stayed with me!  Hope you enjoy this chapter as much as you did the last!

**Disclaimer:**  I do not own Yu Yu Hakusho.  Honest.  I own… nothing?  Yeah, that's it… nothing.  Be warned, there's more violence in the chapters to come, hence my PG-13 rating.  This fic WILL deserve it, I promise.  

**Chapter Three:**   Consequences

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     Botan walked down the hallway in King Yama's palace slowly, as if in a total daze.  She could scarcely believe what she herself had just heard firsthand from the girl's soul she had ferried across the river Styx.  _He couldn't have…He, - H-he wouldn't have!  I…_ _But, there MUST be a mistake! _ Her thoughts plagued her mind, swarming in a whirlwind, promising her no peace.  After running into three busy onis, and finally colliding with the fourth, it seemed the blue haired 'grim reaper' had at last come out of her trance.  Picking herself up off of the floor, she shook her head to clear it of the jumbled mess of thoughts.  She let out a resigned sigh.  Once she had helped clean the papers that the oni had dropped off the floor, she made her way towards Koenma's office.  No matter how much it shocked her, no matter how much she didn't want to believe it, no matter how hard it was going to be, she knew exactly what she had to do.

     Taking a deep breath to regain her nerve and composure, Botan opened the door leading to the office of the ruler of Spirit World.  Inside, Koenma was working at his desk as usual, several onis bustling about, bringing paperwork to and from the office.  Without even looking at her boss, Botan slowly entered the room and stayed silent, inwardly hoping that she could stall the inevitable while he didn't notice that she was there.  Unfortunately for Botan, however, Koenma enjoyed any excuse to pause in his duties, and immediately looked up and stopped when he noticed her walk in.

     "Ah!  Yo, Botan, what's up?" he asked, looking quite grateful for a distraction from his daily monotony.  He soon looked a bit suspicious as he spotted the nervous look on her face, and the way she avoided looking directly at him as she came closer.  "…What is it?"

     Botan came to stand beside Koenma's desk, and a couple of onis took one look at her expression, and left the room quickly.  She sighed, and took another deep breath before finally meeting his gaze as she began to speak.  "Well, Koenma, sir…" she paused, even after all of her rehearsal and attempts at preparation, she still had to force herself to say the words.  "We have a bit of a situation here…" her voice trailed off as she still couldn't quite get it out.  

     Koenma waited a few moments, expecting her to continue, before speaking up.  "And that would be…" he let the question hang, slightly impatiently waiting for her to finish.  He completely ignored the onis trying to get him to sign this or stamp that document.  

     The rattled ferry girl decided to just blurt it out and get it over with.  She looked Koenma straight in the eye and said quickly, "Kurama murdered a human girl today!"

     Koenma blinked at her, and then burst into laughter.  Through chuckles, with actual tears in his eyes, he said, "Ha!  Good one, Botan… Next you'll try to tell me that Yuusuke made the distinguished honor roll!" he continued chuckling, not noticing Botan's serious face.

     "B-but, Koenma, sir… Kurama really did kill a human girl today," she repeated, coming closer to the desk.  "She told me herself."

     "What?!" Koenma roared, papers flying off the desk in his surprised outburst.  The onis who had still been in the room suddenly decided that it was in their best interest to vacate the toddler's office.  At the end of the ensuing shuffle, only Botan and Koenma were left in the now quiet room.  Finally calming down enough to speak, Koenma gathered himself and stood on the desk, looking at Botan eye-to-eye.  "You're telling me that Kurama killed someone… TODAY?" although he wasn't yelling, the force of Koenma's voice was enough to make Botan take a small step backwards, away from the desk.

     Botan nodded wordlessly, not sure what to say; she knew that no words she could form would squelch the stunning veracity of the situation.  

     Koenma sat down on his desktop with a small thump.  He thought seriously for several moments, while his assistant waited in patient silence for him to digest the information.  When he spoke again, it was much quieter; and Botan found herself stepping forward once again just to hear him clearly.  "We have to get Yuusuke… to bring him in," he said, staring at the floor.  "I was afraid this day would come; though I thought for sure it would be Hiei we'd be forced to arrest, not Kurama."  He looked up at the ferry girl, who was spacing a bit.  "Botan, wake up!" he practically yelled.  "Go and get Yuusuke… NOW!!"

     "Y-yes, Koenma, sir," she responded, quickly leaving the room and heading off to the human world to tell Yuusuke he had to arrest Kurama.  Botan willed herself not to cry.  Sometimes she regretted her job's difficult duties; but this moment more than took the cake.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

     "Shu-Shuiichi…"  

     Kurama looked up, startled slightly out of his reverie.  He turned to find the source of the voice that spoke his name with such a quiet anguish.  There his mother stood, looking from him to the pale, lifeless girl and back again.  The boy said nothing as he watched Shiori's expressions.

     A chill ran up the woman's back as she saw her son's cold, calm stare, his eyes appearing to glow a little golden as the gaze seemed to pierce right through her.  _So it is true then…_ she thought, sighing slightly in resignation to her long-hidden fears.  Closing her eyes briefly to collect herself, she looked up at him, and spoke in a soft, tentative voice, "Youko?"

     Kurama blinked.  He then took a step toward her, eyes narrowing.  "How did you know?" he asked, voice as even as ever.  His calculating mind ran over and over any times that Shiori could have possibly suspected her son's unique origins, but all he was sure he had carefully hidden from her.  _How, then, _he wondered, _could she have known what I am?_  He awaited her answer.

     Shiori sat down on his chair, and, seeing the slightly confused look on her son's face, beckoned him to sit down as well.  She waited to speak until he had taken a seat on the end of his bed… on which still lay Kira's body, rapidly losing its warmth.  After taking a deep breath, she began in a soft voice, "I suppose I owe you some explaining," when he only nodded, she continued.  "When I was just a few months pregnant, with you, Shuiichi, I felt a presence enter my womb," she said, a reflective look on her face.

     Kurama's eyes widened slightly.  "You could tell?" he asked her in a hushed tone.  His expression clearly showed that this possibility had never occurred to him.   

     Shiori nodded.  "Every day I was pregnant," she continued. "I felt not only the growth of my baby, but the development of an energy within me, as well."  She closed her eyes briefly before saying any more, as if this memory alone was a commanding force.  "The energy… was very powerful," again she paused, this time opening her eyes and locking them with those of her son.  "…And also full of pain, and malice," she finished, a look of fear momentarily crossing her features before she shook her head to clear the thoughts.  "With every growth of my child, I could feel the presence getting more powerful, more clear.  As if it were gaining strength just as the baby it had a hold of was gaining life.  So, you see, I've always known on some level.  I just didn't know WHEN it would surface…" she looked down, "when the presence would emerge, and my sweet son would disappear."  With that, a single tear ran down her cheek, unable to be held back against the weight of discovering her son's 'true' self.

     Kurama got up from the bed and knelt beside the woman who had taken care of him for the past 16 years.  With her face still aimed at the floor instead of him, he gently wiped away the tear that she had shed.  He let her collect herself a bit more before speaking to her with a soft voice and gentle tone.  "Your son will not disappear, Shiori.  Your son is me… the child that you raised is a part of me," he said quietly, pausing a moment before continuing, "You're my 'kaasan."  He looked at her, the expression on his face reassuring that he did care about her as more than just another human.  And underneath that message, the implication that she need not worry; she was safe from the malevolence of his spirit that she had sensed so long.  He would not kill her as well.

     Shiori looked up then, holding his gaze as she digested all that he had just told her.  After a moment, she smiled softly at him.  She thought to herself how much of a contradiction he was; there he was before her, filled with malice enough to kill, yet still somehow capable of love and a gentle gaze.  _This is my son,_ she said to herself, trying to see the truth in her own statement.  The boy she had raised, the son she loved, so much the same, and yet so different.

     A sudden thought came to her.  "S-Shuiichi, people will find out!" she exclaimed, gesturing to the nearly forgotten form of Kira on the bed.  "She has family… people will know that… that you…"

     "That I killed her," he said calmly, finishing the statement that she seemed incapable of completing.  He watched her features to see her reaction to the words.

     Shiori silently nodded once more, swallowing around the sudden lump that appeared in her throat.  Her son had killed someone.  He was a murderer.  Or was it the spirit inside him alone that had done it?  She looked her son in the eyes, seeming to search for the core of innocence that she hoped was there.  But as she tried to find it, she realized that there was no innocence in his eyes, only the honest confession and admittance of guilt.  So that was that.  It was done; and her sweet little boy had killed a girl, with not even a twinge of remorse.  After a few more moments of quiet contemplation, Shiori came back to her senses.  "We, we have to hide her… so no one can find out," her expression hardened a bit into one of resignation as she continued, "…I'll help you.  Whatever needs to be done, I'll make sure nothing happens to you."

     Kurama searched her eyes to make sure she meant what she had said, and once satisfied that she had, he nodded.  "Alright," he said, gently helping her to her feet, as she was still a bit shaky with shock.  "Let's take care of this, then."  He walked towards the bed.

     "I know just what to do."

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     Water ran in steady rivulets off of Yuusuke Urameshi's shoulders as he made his way across town.  Though the sun had been set for several hours now, it seemed to get drastically darker in the past few minutes that he had been walking.  And the rain that had started out light had now turned to a cloud-bursting downpour.  _A fitting setting_, Yuusuke grimly admired.  Only rain could bring out the mood that bad been set on him that night.  Even now, as he was on his way to apprehend the fox, he could barely believe that Kurama had truly done what Botan had said he had.  How could this happen?  Over the time they'd known each other, he and Kurama had become good friends.  "I don't keep friendships with murderers…" he muttered out loud to the empty night around him.  He knew no one was around to hear him but the rain, which gave him no comfort as it permeated his clothes and soaked his skin.  It wasn't a cold night, but the possible confrontation ahead of him sent a chill up Yuusuke's spine.

     He checked his watch.  He tried to judge how long it had taken him since he'd spoken with Botan and received his order, and quickened his pace in hopes that he wouldn't miss his window of opportunity.  This might have been his only chance of bringing Kurama in without a struggle.  Though the Spirit Detective had to admit, he had no idea exactly what he was up against, or what type of situation he was so hurriedly walking into.  Yet he sped on, pushing logic out of his mind so that he could focus on what had to be done.

     He was almost there.

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      With the rain now heavily beating against his form, Kurama stood back from finishing his task.  He had long since let his mother return home, after convincing her that he would be alright if left by himself in the park.  He held out his hands, palms directed towards the sky, allowing the water to rinse them clean of the dirt and mud that clung to his skin after burying Kira's body.  He watched as the last stains were washed away, leaving him clear of visible evidence, as if he were clear of blame as well.

     _No matter,_ he thought, a bemused smile playing on his lips, _what's done is done, no sense mourning it._  Not that he'd minded the fact that he was guilty; he knew what he had done.  No one had forced him to do it, and despite the force inside him guiding him, ultimately he knew he made his own decisions.  Human life though he may have, he'd been fully aware of himself since his days inside the woman's womb.  

     So much incongruity lived inside of him.  In some ways, he was both Shuiichi and Youko, two minds sharing one vessel of body and soul.  In other ways, he was neither persona; forced to forge his own path, a unique path in the world that only he could traverse.  And he had done so, with a modicum of success enough that he'd been able to horde away some small measure of peace throughout his years in the human world.  He had even begun to be content with the life that he had created, satisfied with the choices he had made.  That is, until he was reminded of what still remained locked up inside of him.  That day he was forced to revert to the visage of Youko Kurama, he became fully aware for the first time in this life how much he truly was missing.  It had all come flooding back; not that he has lost any memory of what he was, but years confined to a human body and soul had dulled his senses enough for him not to have thought about his past in the same manner.  In those moments he had as his true self, he had felt an immense sense of freedom.  It was almost as if he had been reborn, given a fresh start at being his old self each time.  Nothing he'd ever experienced had felt like that; nothing come close to comparing.  Most of all, it was a feeling that he longed to experience again, and soon.

     Ignoring the downpour around him, Kurama reached into his pocket and fingered the contents held there.  The smooth exterior of the glass felt soothing to his fingers after working too long in the hard soil to dig the shallow grave.  Enjoying the lingering feeling of the texture of the glass, he considered allowing it to bring him his freedom once more, if only for the temporary tranquility that it brought to his mind.  Peace.  He removed the bottle from his pocket, gazing at it in his dreary solitude.  The Fruit of the Previous Life.  Such a gift he had been given, yet such a curse of brevity in its very blessing.  Disregarding the quiet night around once again, he continues to stare into the fluid he held, toying with the possibilities inside his calculating mind.  So wrapped up was he in his own silent contemplation, he did not even hear the sound of footfalls on the saturated leaves that strewed the ground behind him.  The figure that had appeared stood in his spot for some time, in fact, before he broke the silence in the air to catch the redhead's attention.

     "Kurama," Yuusuke spoke the boy's name softly, yet with an underlying tone of authority, just enough to establish control of any proceeding conversation.  Thunder rolled in the distance, the storm turning even darker, as he waited for his friend to turn around and acknowledge his presence.

     Without turning, however, Kurama responded in his smooth voice, tone perfectly calm, as it always was, "Hello, Yuusuke, I should have expected you'd be coming."  He made no other motion to acknowledge the Spirit Detective, and just stood where he was, holding the small vial of freedom in his right hand, thumb gently caressing its sides, now slippery from the raindrops that were falling more heavily now.  His left arm hung down at his side, hand and fingers relaxed; he showed no signs of surprise or aggression towards Yuusuke.  

     Yuusuke waited, unsure exactly what to say or do.  He had been confronted with this situation many times, though never had he been forced to arrest a friend.  But friendship aside, he knew that he was doing the right thing.  Kurama had killed a girl.  No matter how much he wanted to deny it, how much he wanted to blame it on the stupid Dark Tournament messing with the boy's head, the fact still remained that it happened.  Now here he was, standing in the rain, waiting to take Kurama to Spirit World for judgment on his actions.  Standing there, he noticed for the first time the mound of fresh soil that had been amassed in front of them.  Despite the flowers that grew over it, Yuusuke's stomach turned, as he knew it was the grave of the girl Kurama had killed.  He was familiar with death; but someone he cared about, a close friend had caused this death.  He wasn't able to simply ignore it.  _So that's it then,_ he thought, with a gaining measure of resolution.  He held up his hand, supported by his other around the wrist, water running off it towards the already sopping ground as he directed his index finger at his friend's back.  This time, his voice was much more firm as he spoke, "Kurama, turn around."  And again he waited for the redhead to turn and face him.

     Hearing the tone in which Yuusuke spoke, Kurama decided to look at him, if only out of curiosity.  Turning his entire body to face the Spirit Detective, he found himself looking directly at the index finger used to shoot his infamous spirit gun.  Other than a slight blink of his eyes, Kurama gave his friend no satisfaction by showing a reaction to the threat.  Sounding calmly amused, he flicked green eyes back and forth between Yuusuke's face and the finger now pointing at his chest, and asked, "Is that for me?"

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**A/N: ** CLIFFHANGER! Am I evil? I'll try to get the next chapter up soon, guys, be patient!  
Thanks to James, my great borrowed evil muse! ^__^  
And to Pierce, who made me end it here... mwahahaha  
REVIEW!  


	4. Dark And Cold

**A/N:**  *sings *  All I want for Christmas is a few reviews… ^__^  Hello everyone!  I've finally updated a new chapter of this fic!  Yay!  Heh… I know it's taken forever, but this is a REALLY long chapter, so… all forgiven?? *gives audience of readers big shiny anime puppy-dog eyes *  Please?  

**Disclaimer:  **I own Yu Yu Hakusho.  No, really, I do.  Despite how many times Pierce claims to own it, I do.  Me.  ME, dammit!!  Ahem… Hello, big suited lawyers with the briefcases and all… heh… peace?

Chapter 4:  Dark and Cold 

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     Keiko stood at the window looking out from the warmth of her bedroom into the black dreariness of the night.  Something was wrong.  She watched the impacts of rain droplets against the glass pane, running their course down towards the ground.  Each watery trail faded and was remade with the flow of the storm.  Keiko put her hand against the window, feeling the cool of the glass against her hand, which was warmed with unrest.  No matter how hard she had tried, she still couldn't shake the uneasy feeling that this night was much darker than even the ominous clouds of the thunderstorm were already making it.  Lightning flashed across the sky, illuminating her troubled features.  She took her hand from the glass as if the bolt had shocked her.  Holding her wrist with the other hand and bringing them both to rest over her heart, she whispered, "Yuusuke…"

     She didn't know what was going on, but she knew something bad was about to happen.  And she couldn't get Yuusuke out of her mind.  Keiko considered running over to his house, just to make sure he was all right, but three subsequent strikes of lightning discouraged that thought.  She watched the flashes unblinking, letting their pure light sear painfully into her head, burning red afterimages on her eyes.  

     With the thunder roaring closely overhead, Keiko once again whispered the name of the boy she held so dear.  Not knowing what else to do, she turned from her trance out the window and walked over to her bed, climbing slowly between the sheets.  Laying her head against the pillow at an angle that allowed her to see the storm's passage outside, Keiko tumbled into a fitfully shallow sleep.

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     The storm was getting progressively worse, a light rainstorm's clouds roiling into a ominous covering, ever so much darker than that of the normal night sky.  Pushing his way through the crowds of umbrellas, Kuwabara made his way down the rainy streets.  He had also gotten a message-bearing visit from Botan that day, though after the ferry girl had already told Yuusuke of the situation, of course.  Kuwabara had called his friend's house, telling him to stay there and they would go together.  Running down the now clear sidewalk leading to Yuusuke's place, Kuwabara only hoped that he had listened and waited.  

     As he reached the door and knocked several times, however, Kuwabara began to get a sinking suspicion that he had not.  He checked through the window, but could only see the TV running inside, and the vague outline of a blanketed form lying lazily in from of the screen.  The boy rolled his eyes a bit, all too used to the sight of Yuusuke's mother spaced out by the TV, getting progressively more inebriated.  Kuwabara walked back to the door, stepping inside and removing his shoes.  

     Hearing the door open through her drunken haze, Atsuko slurred, "Hey, Yuusuke?  You back already?"  There came the clinking of glass, and Kuwabara could tell before he entered the room that she was taking another swig of sake.  

     So his suspicions were correct after all.  "Is Yuusuke gone?" Kuwabara demanded, out of breath and not even bothering with formal pleasantries as he walked into the living room where Atsuko lay.  He knew that they would be lost on the woman in the state that she was.

     Atsuko waved a hand passively in the air, not even turning to acknowledge the boy's presence.  "Yes," she lisped slightly, unable to control her speech completely anymore, "He left a while ago, got a phone call and left, dammit, not even telling me where he was going…" her voice trailed off into an unintelligible ramble of slurred complaints against Yuusuke's lack of respect and manners.  

     Not that it mattered much that she couldn't be understood, as her only audience had already bolted out the door as fast as he was able to throw on his shoes and run.  "…Slacker…" the woman barely got her last coherent thought voiced before she watched her TV screen split into triplets and swirl slightly.  Without another word, Atsuko slumped under her blanket to the floor, laying roughly on her side and slipping into an unconscious stupor.

     Speeding away from the Urameshi household, Kuwabara spurred himself on with each bounding step out of sheer concern for his friend.  If Kurama had killed a human girl for no reason, there was no telling how he would react to being arrested.  That was why Kuwabara had wanted to be there with Yuusuke when they apprehended the demon, to make sure that they could do it without too much struggle.

     "Damn, why did he go alone?" the tall boy grunted into the rain that was pouring more heavily down to the ground beneath his pounding feet.  At the thought of what trouble his friend could already be getting himself into, Kuwabara ran ever faster towards the park at which Botan had told him Kurama would be.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

     He turned around at last to confront Yuusuke, finding he instead faced the boy's finger, which pointed towards his heart.  He looked back and forth between the intended threat and the face of the one who was making it.  Without a hint of a smile, his face evenly set, Kurama spoke, sounding amused yet calm and in control.  "Is that for me?" he asked with a barely perceivable nod of his head in the direction of Yuusuke's outstretched hand.

     "I have to take you to Spirit World, Kurama; don't make me have to fight you," Yuusuke spoke equably, though he was shaking slightly.  The rain wasn't bothering him; but he did not want to fight his friend, however inevitable that scenario seemed.  He had tried to force as much authority as he could into his voice, though he feared he still came across nearly as hesitant as he felt.  

     Kurama gave Yuusuke a near pitying smile, flashing as cold as ice on his normally warm expression.  His face showed a kind of resolve that the Spirit Detective had not seen on the boy before.  He would do anything to protect himself and his interests at the moment; Yuusuke could see that now.  "You should know by this point, Yuusuke, foxes do not react well to being cornered.  Do not threaten me unless you intend to follow through with what will result," his tone was as soft as he ever used, but underneath it lay the dangerous warning that Yuusuke indeed needed to take him seriously.

     "You killed that girl, Kurama," Yuusuke responded, not flinching or lowering his hands.  "I'll take my chances to bring you in."  The answering smile on Kurama's face sent a chill up Yuusuke's spine, his stomach still churning with distress.  

     Kurama backed up a few steps, not saying any more, and reached up with his right hand, while placing something Yuusuke could not see clearly in his pocket with his left.  From his hair he pulled a single blood red rose, his signature initial attack style.  Kurama held the stem of the rose loosely between his index and middle finger, steadying it with his thumb.  He held his graceful posture, silently forcing Yuusuke to make the next move.  And like an ever-patient predator, he waited. 

     Yuusuke cringed inwardly when he saw the weapon.  _This is it_, he thought.  He let his hands fall down from where he had held them so taut and ready, and assumed a fighting stance.   When this was still not enough to make Kurama move, as he just stood there calmly holding the flower, Yuusuke resigned himself to the fight and willed himself forward to make the first advancing move of the battle.  Allowing some of the sound from his inner screams of torment to come out loud from his throat, Yuusuke came forward at Kurama, leading with his left side, his right arm cocked back, prepared for a blow.  Still, Kurama did not move.  Yelling more now, Yuusuke followed through with his chosen path, already too late to stop it then.  Even as his fist connected with the side of the redhead's jaw, Kurama showed nothing but calm assurance in his own victory and safety.  Regaining his stance after his attack, Yuusuke watched as Kurama spit out a mouthful of blood, but still held the rose as gently as if he had not been hit at all, merely been standing there quietly, undisturbed.  

     Then Kurama did a curious thing.  He smiled genuinely at Yuusuke.  The younger boy looked at him quizzically as Kurama gave him a small chuckle as well.  "It would appear," he began, wiping the back of his right hand across his mouth, "that I was underestimating your resolve."  Using his power to transform the docile flower into his trademarked rose-whip, Kurama concluded, "I see this battle will be necessary after all.  It will be a shame, Yuusuke, I rather liked you."

     The older boy's words cut through Yuusuke like a searing knife blade.  So Kurama was ready to kill him sooner than go to Spirit World.  Yuusuke took a step backward, barely within the range of a swing from the fox's weapon.  _I've already died once before,_ he thought,_ I won't do it again if I can help it._  "You shouldn't be in too big of a hurry to miss me, Kurama, when I'm still _here_!" with the last word, Yuusuke leapt forward, aiming to strike his friend across the jaw once more.  But he never landed the blow, as his attention and focus had to be diverted to dodging the length of thorny vine headed his way.  Catching the toe of his right shoe on the muddy ground at the last second, Yuusuke propelled himself out of the whip's reach.  Landing both feet on the ground, bending his knees and leaning forward slightly to keep his balance, he slid a few feet in the slick earth, finally coming to a rest.

     Kurama turned to face him with a smile of pity.  "And you should be much more intelligent than to think I'd allow you the same strike twice, Yuusuke.  Don't be foolish; or this game will be well over before it even begins," he said softly, but firmly, and with a tinge of disdain.  Holding the handle end of his whip, Kurama pulled it across his open, partly outstretched left palm, fingering each thorn as it passed.  He continued to absentmindedly stroke the vine while he thought for a moment, the thorns somehow knowing not to scrape his skin as they ran over it.  At last he spoke again, letting the end of the whip fall to rest on the ground beside him, "I think it's time we stepped things up a bit, don't you?  I'm starting to get bored."  He let himself sound distracted and truly disinterested in the entire fight.

     Yuusuke finally stood up fully where he had slid, noticing for the first time the small slice on his upper right arm.  The tip of the whip must have grazed him as he had jumped out of the way.  He chuckled to himself, smiling grimly at the redhead.  "Oh, you're getting bored?" he asked, "Well, I guess I'll just have to keep that from happening, won't I…"

     "Good," was all Kurama replied, and with a nod ran forward to swing his weapon in a wide arc, preparing a powerful strike against the Spirit Detective.

     The dark haired boy ran forward with a yell, ready to trade any slice by Kurama's whip for a spirit-powered slam from his fists.  They met in the middle, energy vs. energy, momentum vs. momentum; the whip slicing across the front of Yuusuke's shirt, digging roughly through the cloth, tearing it aside until it his its mark, and carved over the much more pliant, tender skin of the Detective's stomach.  At the same time, Yuusuke managed to get in a one-two punch to Kurama's gut, sacrificing the whip's attack on his own.  Kurama was propelled backward from the force of the blow, as Yuusuke wrapped his arm across his midsection and hunched over slightly for a moment.  The cut hurt like hell, and he could already feel the warm, spreading wetness of the blood soaking against his arm, mingling with the colder raindrops already congregated there.  

     Without pausing for any more talk, Kurama advanced toward Yuusuke once again, as the younger boy stepped backward to gain better balance as he let go of his bleeding abdomen.  Yuusuke neatly dodged his first volley, catching his leg on the raking thorns the second time through.  

     It continued on much the same way for what seemed like forever to each combatant, until the leaves beneath their battle-dancing feet were stained red with their blood.  Unfortunately, and clear from how slowly he was now moving, most of the spilled blood belonged to Yuusuke.  As the Detective stumbled his steps due once more to a lashing of thorns, Kurama stopped, letting the whip fall back to a pristine rose blossom, and took a moment to consider the fight.  

     After a few moments of his silent contemplation—and Yuusuke catching his breath as the wounds on his arms literally dripped blood down to splatter on the saturated ground cover below—Kurama looked back to make eye contact with his opponent.  "You've been a worthy adversary, Yuusuke," he began in his soft, hypnotic voice, "but I fear I'm tiring of this game as it is."  He took a step backward, as Yuusuke stood there, bleeding, breathing hard, unable to do anything more than listen at the moment.  "You'll die soon enough, should we continue."

     Yuusuke coughed up a mouthful of blood, spitting it unceremoniously onto the leaves, as if to make Kurama's point for him.  Kurama's eyes got a sparkle in them that Yuusuke had never seen, and, at the moment, found to be particularly disturbing.  After the way the battle had gone so far, he feared what Kurama could have in mind now.

     Kurama smiled a frighteningly cold smile, seemingly devoid of any presence of the boy that Yuusuke knew as his friend and ally.  "But I'd like to have some fun with you before that…" he let the sentence hang in the air, creating the desired effect of chilling suspense for Yuusuke as he could only watch and wait, the dozens of long scraping wounds covering his form threatening to force him into unconsciousness soon from loss of blood.  Kurama tossed the red rose to rest on the ground in front of Yuusuke's feet, the way one would place a flower on the lowering casket at a funeral.  The similarity was not lost on Yuusuke.  His hands now free, Kurama once again reached into his pants pocket and retrieved the bottle nestled there, unharmed somehow by the night's activity.  He held it softly in his left hand, running the fingers of his right affectionately over the smooth sides, as the rainwater ran off it in small sheets.  

     Not taking his eyes from the bottle, his voice distant, he addressed Yuusuke, "Do you remember what this is, Yuusuke?"  Not waiting for the plainly exhausted and injured boy to respond, Kurama continued, "It's the key to who I am…" softly, he added, "my freedom."  He ran his fingers over the bottle once more, holding it out further for Yuusuke to be able to see.  "Freedom trapped in a bottle… terribly ironic, don't you agree?"

     "Kurama…" the teen's voice came out as a harsh-sounding desperate plea, not for his own safety, but a warning against what he knew the contents of the bottle would do to his friend.  Yuusuke's breathing was becoming increasingly labored.  Each breath inward seemed to carry hope of life; and each exhale dimmed the light in his eyes as if the very vitality in his body was being expelled by each exchange of air.  He knew, with excruciating certainty, that if he did not take definitive action to win this fight soon, he would die at Kurama's hands.  Standing up as straight as his bruised and battered back and legs would allow him, he watched as Kurama opened the top of the bottle.

     With a sinister smirk and a shimmer in his eyes, the redhead brought the opening to his mouth.  He watched as Yuusuke tried to advance, but only fell to one knee from the pain of Kurama's many lashings over the skin of his back.  Smirking even wider, he took a drink from the potion inside, ignoring the bitter flavor as it floated past his tongue.  He swallowed the liquid down, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand once again.  Smiling positively evilly, he capped the bottle and replaced it in his pocket.  He took a deep breath, preparing for what was to come in a few short minutes.

     Looking up at him, Yuusuke's mind raced.  He remembered the bottle, had seen what happened to Kurama during his battle with Karasu.  He also remembered the huge plants that his friend had been able to summon as weapons in that form.  Yuusuke knew that Karasu had been no weak demon, and definitely not an easy kill; but Kurama had beaten him, even with his own life as the cost.  Something in the boy wondered just how this battle would truly turn out; though he knew he wouldn't have to wait long to find out.  Struggling against the pain, Yuusuke pushed up off the ground, standing erect with great effort.  He wasn't going to go down without giving his all to the fight.

     Kurama watched his prey struggle for balance, saw the determination in his eyes, and chuckled slightly, taking a circling walk around the boy.  "Don't worry, Yuusuke.  Soon you won't have to stand," he said calmly, stopping his circuit when he was in front of the Detective once again.  He made no move to draw another weapon, as he knew he'd have all the power he needed very soon.  Even the short time the fruit allotted him lately would be enough for an already battered Yuusuke.  _Too bad he didn't put his all into the fight earlier,_ Kurama mused in thought, _it might have been more fun that way… a longer fight._  

     Yuusuke stood with his hands fisted at his sides.  _He's stalling,_ he thought, breathing hard from the effort of holding himself off the ground.  _I can't let him transform now!_  Moving his feet to gain what little more balance he could muster, the Spirit Detective extended his arms, left hand supporting the wrist of his right arm, which stood out ready for a blast.  He allowed his finger to glow this time, powering up for the shot he had threatened earlier in the encounter.  By his set expression, eyes on his target, and power nearly fully poured into preparation for the blow, it was clear that this time was no mere threat.  _If I have to kill him, I will._  At any cost.  That is what Koenma told Botan to tell Yuusuke.  They all knew what Kurama was capable of, and what he really was.  The ruler of Spirit World knew that he couldn't afford to have Kurama on the loose if he had truly turned from the person they thought he was.  This was it.  

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

     Spotting the dismal looking gates at the entrance to the park, Kuwabara slid on the slick gravel outside the opening in trying to stop his run.  His feet now out from under him in his haste, he brought his hands down to shield his head from the fall just before impact.  Picking himself back up off the ground with a groan, he carefully planted his feet on the stones once again, standing to look down the path.  Not far from its start at the gates, the dirt path, now covered in mud and puddles from the storm, disappeared from sight around a curve into the woods.  Kuwabara stood there for a moment to allow his lungs to stop burning and get some much-needed air.  He gritted his teeth as he stood still for a moment longer, as if something in his gut warned him to go back.  

     Letting out a deeply held breath, Kuwabara resolved that it was the exact opposite.  As he started down the path, each step gathering speed and urgency as he picked up the pace, he could feel it; something was wrong.  Yuusuke never should have gone alone.  Turning the first bend in the path, Kuwabara hoped that he would not arrive too late now to help his friend.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

     Kurama watched Yuusuke's hands, bathed in the blue light of his spirit energy as it continued to gather around them.  He held his own hands relaxed at his sides.  He felt no fear of the blast… if the boy would even have the courage and backbone to shoot down his own friend.  The redhead smiled as he thought.  _No… I doubt he'll even let it go._  So Kurama stood his ground, waiting for Yuusuke to make his final choice; he could already feel the power of his old self beneath the surface, soon it would be ready to break free.  

     Yuusuke nearly shook with the effort of focusing his energy.  He was already perspiring from the labor of standing.  He wouldn't have minded, with the rain falling heavily enough to wash it away, but as the sweat ran down his back, it mingled with the blood, salty fluid seeping into his cuts.  The sting was almost enough to drive Yuusuke to distraction.  Almost.

     Taking a deep breath, Yuusuke felt the last of his power join in readiness for his Spirit Gun; a large blast.  Voice somewhat shaky, he locked eyes with Kurama once again, "Last chance, Kurama," he called firmly, mouth set to a grim line except for speaking.  "You can still turn yourself in."  The boy had a feeling nothing he could say would make Kurama turn himself in now, but he had to give him the chance.  The near golden gleam in the fox's eyes confirmed his suspicions.  When he got no response, he continued, though his voice came more softly, "Alright, Kurama.  You've made your choice; now I have to make mine."  He didn't want to do it, all of his heart screamed at him for considering it, yet Yuusuke Urameshi found himself uttering the words all the same.

     "Spirit Gun."

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     He had slipped several times in the mud by now, his shoes, covered in the slimy earth, having hardly more traction on the path than they might have had on water.  But mud-covered and tired as he was, Kuwabara made his way deeper into the woods.  _I know they're still here…_ He had sensed both Yuusuke and Kurama's energies not long after he had entered the park.  

     Though it had initially given the boy a sliver of hope for Yuusuke, he soon discerned that his friend's energy was considerably lower than it should have been; he was tired, beaten.  Growling at himself for letting him get away to go alone, Kuwabara turned the last bend that took him out from among the trees, and into the larger clearing.

     Just as he was about to leave the winding wall of forest, a blinding bright blue light engulfed his vision in front and to the left.  Kuwabara shielded his eyes against it, stopping quickly enough in shock to earn himself yet another slip on the mud, sliding to the ground and landing on his rear.  He heard the yell then, a desperate cry of anguished conquest.  _Is it… is it over?_  Kuwabara opened his eyes, the light still glaringly bright.  It should have meant that Yuusuke had had to use his Spirit Gun against Kurama, winning the battle if even by death.  But as he turned his head to face the source of the light, the blue blast wasn't the only glow that lit the clearing.  Blinking against the display, Kuwabara was able to discern gray clouds of light, a storm on the ground writhing within the storm that already raged in the sky above them.  _No!_  He recognized what he saw, knew whom the fierce, roiling energy belonged to; this was the third time he had felt it.

     The glow of Yuusuke's Spirit Gun blast finally faded, with the steely mist of transformation having yet to dissipate around Kurama.  Kuwabara watched as Yuusuke bent over to fall to his knees, saw how battered he looked.  "Dammit, Urameshi, why'd you have to go alone!" he growled into the rain.  Before he could get to his feet to rush to his friend's side, however, there was thunder on the ground, and a voice came from the mist, laughing tauntingly.

     Kuwabara watched and listened in dismay as Youko Kurama emerged from the fog, seeming mostly unhurt, speaking to Yuusuke in a deeper version of Kurama's normal smooth tone, "A valiant effort, I must say," he chuckled slightly, smoothing down the ruffled material of his robes.  "I had expected that you would back down.  Fortunately for me, your blast caught me mid-transformation… My own energy shifts acting as a shield against your power."  Youko smiled coldly at his prey, who knelt weakly on the ground.  "You always did seem to have perfect timing, Yuusuke, even if by accident."  

     Clearly exhausted from giving all of his energy to the blast, Yuusuke winced this time as he tried to straighten his back.  With his spirit energy spent for the moment, the teen had no defense to draw on against the pain.  Worse, now that the hurt was hitting him full-force, it seemed the injuries were worse than he had realized them to be.  Yet even through it all, Yuusuke managed to look defiant.  He smiled at Kurama; that unnerving, cocky smile that Yuusuke had a knack for using to win over just about anybody.  When he spoke, it was more lighthearted than Kuwabara would have expected from someone who was on the verge of losing a fight.  "Don't worry, Kurama," he said, rising to his feet with some manner of balance enough to keep himself from falling over.  "You won't get away with this so easily."

     "Urameshi!"  Kuwabara heard the yell, surprised to find out that it had originated from his own throat.  He started for his friend, aiming to fight Kurama in his stead.  After only a few steps, however, Yuusuke turned his head to look straight into Kuwabara's eyes, as if he could pierce his very soul with the fires of determination that burned there.  The taller boy stopped short.  His friend didn't have to say a word for him to understand that Yuusuke meant to finish this fight alone; to whatever end.  Kuwabara swallowed past the lump that was rising in his throat.  He had honor enough not to go against a friend's wishes; but what should he do when that wish could cost the friend's very life?

     Kurama seemed to sense the indecision, and hurriedly decided to help them out.  "Don't butt in where you are unwanted, Kuwabara; clearly Yuusuke wishes this fight to be his, and his alone.  Commendable."  

     "Urameshi…" Kuwabara's voice was pleading.

     Yuusuke didn't answer him as he turned his fierce gaze back to his adversary.  With no real energy to speak of left, Yuusuke took a fighting pose, ready to die with dignity and honor, should this be his fate.  "Whenever you're ready, Kurama."  Breathing hard and dripping blood and sweat, Yuusuke stared the fox down.

     His challenge received no voiced answer, as Kurama merely nodded to imply he was ready as well.  As Yuusuke leapt forward from his spot on the soaked earth, yelling in his rage and final desperation, he failed to even see Kurama reach into his hair again.

     "No!  Urameshi!! _He's pulled the…_" but Kuwabara never finished his warning.  By that time, it was too late.  Before Yuusuke's lunge brought him within two yards of the Youko, he was stopped short, in mid-air, hanging between heaven and earth, speared through the heart with the vines of Kurama's death plant.  Kuwabara stared numbly, mouth open, eyes not wanting to believe what they witnessed before them.  He watched in horror as Kurama sneered, twisting the branches inside of Yuusuke, causing the Spirit Detective to emit a scream of pure agony.

     Yuusuke coughed, spitting dark blood onto the matted ground.  His eyes focused on his killer, uttering his name before the fox pulled the plant from his broken body, allowing him to fall to the ground with a sickening thud.  Kuwabara ran to his side, kneeling and lifting him by his limp shoulders to lie on his lap.  Yuusuke's eyes were darkening, light of life fleeing from him into the murky night.

     "How could you, you bastard!?" Kuwabara yelled, only to realize that the object of his rage no was no longer there.  Kurama was gone; leaving Kuwabara alone with his injured friend, his own tears mingling with the rain on his face.  "Bastard…"

     "Kuwa…bara…"

     "Just hold on, Urameshi," he said softly, rocking back and forth slightly as he held the Spirit Detective's failing body; lighting crashed around, wind whipping at the cloth of his jacket.  "It's going to be ok… You're going to be ok…"

     Even as he spoke the words, Kuwabara knew they weren't true.  As deep red blood trickled out of Yuusuke's mouth, a large pool forming on the ground and on Kuwabara's knees from the boy's chest and back, he knew nothing would ever be ok again.

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     "Yuusuke!"

     Keiko sat up from her bed, gasping for breath and drenched in sweat.  What had the dream meant?  Was Yuusuke truly in danger?  Every time she had tried to go to sleep that night, she was still haunted with images of her friend in a fight…

     A fight he was meant to lose.  She climbed out of her twisted mess of sheets and padded into the bathroom, where she washed her face, salty from tears and perspiration, with cool water from the sink.  Looking at her own haunted visage in the mirror, she scolded herself for believing too strongly in a dream.  _It must be the storm,_ she thought.  Thunderstorms often gave her fright; this night must be the same.  

     She headed back to her bed, ignoring the one strong picture that wouldn't leave her mind…

     The image of a silver fox.

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     **A/N:**  Phew!!  Do you guys have ANY clue how long that took to type up?!  Yikes.  Ok, before you complain… Yuusuke and Kurama have never actually fought, so there's nothing to compare against for strengths.  Also, Yuusuke wasn't TRYING to give his all until he was already physically beaten.  

     Another note:  There has been a change in the plot of the series, as far as this story is concerned.  In the world of this particular fan fiction piece, the girls of YYH were NOT there when Kurama battled Karasu.  This will be addressed more fully later, but that's why the image here didn't mean more to Keiko.  *sigh *

     Ok people, REVIEW!!!  I'm SO sorry that it took so long, and, unfortunately, it's probably going to take a while again to get further.  I've changed the rating, for what will occur in later chapters.  Trust me… it's going to have to be R.  

Ja ne!!

-Draith


	5. Mask

**A/N:  **Just another friendly reminder that this story will NOT contain ANY yaoi of ANY kind.  Thanks to everyone who reviewed, you love me; you really love me!  Ahem.  But yeah, thanks… nothing can make my day like an inbox full of reviews!  Some people might say that 6 pages on MSWORD typed up for technically just one scene might be a bit much… But there's more chapter than that, so hopefully I don't lose people like I did on the last one.  Ok, enough of my yakking.  

**Disclaimer:**   I don't own Yu Yu Hakusho or any of its lovely characters.  I don't own the non-lovely ones, either.  I don't own anything, really, except perhaps this plotline.  Then again, someone may have already done it, and I just didn't know…  Ok, so the only things I DO own are the poem lines inserted between scene changes.  I may continue doing this for further chapters, not sure yet.  Let me know what you think?  Thanks.

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     ~Turn to the inside                the only one I've fooled is myself~

~Constant controversy             the mask has fallen; what next? ~

     ~Hurt or be hurt                  suffering links past and present~

~The future is open            though nothing gold can stay. ~

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     It rained again that day.  Somehow, it always seemed overly fitting to rain on the day of a wake.  He was dead; again.  His mother once again found herself huddled in a corner, steadily crying herself into a denial-filled delirium.  She had dreamt of this day, had somehow known even that it would come too soon; but still it struck her heart with unbridled pain.  It was all Atsuko could do to acknowledge her son's visitors as they paid him their last respects.

     Kazuma Kuwabara stood against the wall across from Yuusuke's table.  He felt a wave of anger crashing through him, blazing white-hot against his heart.  His friend was gone, and he hadn't even been there to help him.  Why couldn't Yuusuke have just waited for him?  Why did he have to face Kurama alone?  

     …Kurama.  Kuwabara still hadn't digested the fact that their ally and friend had killed the Spirit Detective.  _"It's all so wrong,"_ he thought, staring at the table dedicated to his friend's life.  _"He wasn't supposed to die… not like this."_   He had witnessed the fox spirit strike his friend down; the memory of it all kept running through his mind, forcing him to relive Yuusuke's last moments over and over again.  It hadn't taken long for the death plant's poison to find its way through the boy's system, leaving Yuusuke little time before his life faded.

~~~~~~~~

     _"Bastard…"_ Kuwabara spat the word into the stormy night, tears falling from his face as he held onto his fallen friend.  He couldn't believe the supposedly honorable Kurama had just walked away from the fight like that; just left Yuusuke there, not even caring what happened to him. 

      Kuwabara spat the word into the stormy night, tears falling from his face as he held onto his fallen friend.  He couldn't believe the supposedly honorable Kurama had just walked away from the fight like that; just left Yuusuke there, not even caring what happened to him. 

     Yuusuke struggled to breathe past the rising flow of blood into his throat and windpipe.  He coughed up more blood, eyes searching darkly for his friend.  "Kuwa… bara…" he managed to croak out the other boy's name, trying to turn, but ending up only lying limply where he had been.  Just speaking was taking what precious little energy he had left, steadily falling.

     Seeing all of the blood coming from his friend's serious wounds was making Kuwabara more panicked than he had ever been before.  The boy usually prided himself on his determination and bravery when it came time for tough and dangerous situations; but today his sense of self was slipping as fast as the life in his hands.  Tears rolling down his face at his total lack of control of their plight, Kuwabara tried to hearten his friend, at the same time trying to convince himself.  "Just hold on, Urameshi," he said above the howling, whipping wind.  "It's going to be ok."  As the other boy's blood continued to spread across the ground, he added, "You're going to be ok."  He had a feeling that he was lying, but he didn't know what else to say.

     Yuusuke opened his mouth to speak, finding only a croak and a cough of blood in his throat for the moment.  When his mouth cleared, he looked desperately up at Kuwabara.  His pupils were already large, dilated, eyes nearly glassy as he worked to keep them focused on his friend through the wind and rain.  "Kuwabara…" his voice was so soft that the taller boy had to lean down closer just to hear him.  "He… he won't… be arrested, Kuwabara… be careful… you…" he coughed again, thick, claret fluid streaming from his throat and out of his mouth with the force of it.  "You have to get him, Kuwabara… before he kills anyone else…"

     Kuwabara was shaking now.  The rain had drenched his clothes, seeming to soak him to the bone, and the whipping, whirling wind of the storm tore right through the saturated material; but the storm's effect was not why he was shaking.  He knew now that Yuusuke was croaking and coughing the last words that he would ever speak alive.  His friend was dying, and there was nothing he could do to stop it.  With his final strength spent, Yuusuke slumped in Kuwabara's lap, his already limp form collapsing itself to a heap of heavy flesh and bone.  "Hold on, Urameshi!" the boy desperately tried to keep his friend conscious, but no amount of calling him was going to reverse the poison.  Yuusuke was already so pale… his lips had turned a faint blue color, and his eyes were sunken in.

     Yuusuke gripped as Kuwabara's sleeve as his eyes went dark, his neck losing muscle control and allowing his head to roll back.  The world was terribly silent and still around Kuwabara then.  Thunder's crashing ruled the night with its ominous booms, but none of the night's sounds registered on the kneeling boy.  He stayed there even after he knew in his heart that his friend had gone.  No matter how much he knew it inside, he still did not want to accept it.  Tears continued to roll down his cheeks as he held the slain Spirit Detective.  Challenging even the thunder with its anguished volume, Kuwabara roared his friend's name into the night.

~~~~~~~~

     "Yuusuke!"  The yell brought Kuwabara out of his lingering reverie.  He was surprised to hear it outside his head just as he could hear himself bellowing it on the inside.  This cry belonged to Atsuko, however, who had finally reached the point of no return in her crying grief.  A few of her friends had tried to comfort her, only to abandon the attempt when the woman proved inconsolable.  Kuwabara clenched his jaw tightly and held back the tears that had been threatening to fall all afternoon.  He took a glance around the room.  Although not as many students and teachers had made long appearances like the first wake that had been held for Yuusuke, certain ones had made a point to be there.  Mr. Takanaka had been by; early enough to offer his condolences to Atsuko before she completely broke down.  Keiko had been in and about the apartment since before anyone else had arrived, including Kuwabara.  She seemed to have taken it upon herself to make sure things got done.  Kuwabara had no clue how she had stayed strong so long.  He may not have been a basket case huddled in a corner like Atsuko, but he would not have the ability to talk to anyone about his friend right now, let alone busy himself with preparations for his wake.

     What little diffused light that drifted in through the open door was blocked again, marking the entrance of another mourning guest.  Kuwabara looked up to see who the new arrival was and was shocked to see Kurama standing in the doorway.  Before anyone else had found them, Kuwabara had been told by Koenma to say that Yuusuke had been mugged in the par, and had put up a fight.  He had warned Kuwabara of the need to keep the knowledge of demons and Spirit World from humans, or else things would get complicated and messy.  Therefore, for the moment, he was forced to cover up the truth.  Most likely the fix spirit had figured on this outcome, but it still required quite a lot of nerve to show up at the wake of the boy that he had so coldly murdered.  Kurama lingered in the doorway for a moment in thought, taking in the room's surroundings before stepping inside.  Kuwabara started to walk over to intercept the felon with a quiet growl, when a strong hand on his shoulder forced him to stay back against the wall.  He looked up to see who had dared to so roughly stop his progress, and found his sister's emotionless face staring back at him.

     "Watch it, baby bro," Kuwabara Shizuru spoke softly in her calm tone of warning.  "It wouldn't do to start a fight at a wake."

     Her comment startled Kuwabara.  He hadn't told anyone how Yuusuke had really died, and certainly not his sister.  She couldn't have known that Kurama was really the one responsible for the Detective's death.  "I… I don't know what you're talking about, sis," he stated in a hurt-pride voice of innocence, "There's nothing going on here, nope, no-sir."  He cringed inwardly at himself, realizing he may have denied too much, but couldn't take it back now without looking obvious.

     The elder Kuwabara gave him a look that usually was followed by her kicking his ass like she always did when he did something she thought was stupid.  True to her own advice, however, Shizuru started no fight there, not even taking the time to hit him once.  She merely looked at him and spoke in a hushed voice so only he would hear her words.  "Kazuma, I know you better than I think you know yourself sometimes; you were headed for a confrontation with Kurama."

     "…" Kuwabara was stunned, as he usually was when his sister would clairvoyantly know what he was intending to do before he followed it through.  "Hey… How'd you know who I was gonna talk to?  There's a bunch of people here, it could have been anybody."  By the time Kuwabara had stopped speaking, his voice had taken on the defensive tone that only magnified his culpability.  At this point, Kurama had already made his way to the table along the opposite wall, and was kneeling to pay Yuusuke respect.  Respect.  Kuwabara growled again at the hypocritical gesture.  The murderer paying the victim respect?  It was a slap in the face and Kurama knew it.  He hadn't so much as even glanced in Kuwabara's direction, but the tall boy knew his presence had been detected by the demon; he was just being as sly as, well, a fox.  

     This time Shizuru DID hit her brother, though only on the back of the head hard enough to send of message of his own stupidity.  "Brother, a monkey could tell who you were watching, and who you were intending to talk to," she said, voice condescending.  Her voice got softer then, more reflective and passive.  "That's not all, though… I've sensed something off all day, and Kurama's arrival only magnified it.  He's the cause of some serious problems."  Shizuru looked at her brother in the eyes, with an expression that nearly willed him to tell her what was going on all by itself.  She knew something big was going on, and from her brother's reaction to Kurama's visit to Yuusuke's table, she guessed it must involve at least the three of them.  She had sensed the difference in Kurama's energy the moment he had arrived at the door to the Urameshi's apartment.  She didn't know the demon very well personally, but she had been around him enough by now to easily recognize the change in his mood and countenance.  He didn't look different—his hair was still perfect and fiery red, school uniform straight and wrinkle-free even as he knelt—but the mismatch to his normal presence was glaringly obvious; at least to those who paid attention.  

     When her brother hesitated and failed to respond, however, Shizuru didn't wait any longer for him to answer, just pat his shoulder once and walked over to sit next to Atsuko, quietly offering her comfort.  The grieving woman seemed to finally break down, and she let herself fall against Shizuru, hugging her tightly and sobbing into her shoulder.  The younger woman was doing her best to remain strong, but found herself shedding a few of her own tears at the sight.  She just rubbed the other's back and held her; it was the only thing she could offer at the time.  

     Kuwabara watched them and felt his own tears returning.  He knew there was nothing any of them could do to take the pain away from Yuusuke's mother.  If there was, he would have already done it.  Seeing someone in pain was a kind of torture for the teen; and when it was someone close to him, the pain was ever so much more vivid.  With his sister gone from his side, he turned his attention back to Kurama.  Or, rather, to the stranger kneeling at the table where Kurama had been just moments earlier.  Kuwabara frantically scanned the rooms in his view for any sight of the fox.  He found his quarry quickly enough, though was both horrified and angry at the site that greeted him.

     Kurama had found Keiko, and was at the moment holding her gently as she hugged him, in obvious need of comfort.  Kurama was a likely person to think of in seeking comfort; his soft manner and always polite, friendly tone seemed to draw people to him.  He was a calm personality and temperament often amidst a sea of rash and impatient friends and partners.  It followed then, being so surrounded by those opposing his personality, Kurama became a breath of fresh air to those who knew and were around him often; and fresh air was exactly what Keiko Ukimura needed right then.  Even though the front door to the apartment was open, allowing the wind to blow in—though much more gently than the other night's storm—Keiko found the rooms to be dense with a tangible, suffocating air of grief and hurt.  She held onto Kurama tightly, trying to hard not to let the wall she had erected in front of her tears break.  If it did, she knew there would be no stopping her breakdown, and she couldn't break right now… Atsuko needed her to help her, needed her to be strong.  Yuusuke needed her to be strong.  

     That thought alone almost broke the wall for her.  She had dreamt of him in danger, had felt the world being off that night, and yet she had done nothing.  She should have known by now to trust dreams involving Yuusuke.  She could still vividly remember her dream that had told her to kiss him in order to wake him from near-death.  She hadn't trusted that dream until her mother had told her it was real while in her hospital bed.  Keiko had been through too much to have given up that easily, but she had; and now she had to live with that.  She lived with that fact, while Yuusuke died because of it.  She wasn't even sure that she could have helped him; but there had to have been some way, there always was for Yuusuke.  What now?  

     Allowing herself to think about it all finally distracted Keiko from her carefully calculated control of her emotions.  She felt Kurama's hand on her back, gently rubbing it as she cried against his chest.  She had thought that her pain was unbearable, but something in the gentle way he held her was having a soothing effect on her heart as well as her body.  She barely was aware of the movement as Kurama guided her to sit down, still holding her.

     It had not been his intention to stay long at the wake.  Kurama meant simply to show up, offer his public respect to who he still considered a worthy opponent and former partner, and leave.  But seeing this young girl so broken up, even despite her obvious efforts to hide her grief, had given him reason to pause his departure.  Even in his fully demon form, Kurama was not a heartless being.  Adding to that spark of compassion over the last seventeen years had been the human emotions brought by this body and soul.  He may have rejected them at first, but his curiosity had begun to bond them to his mind.  He had also discovered the value of such things, especially at times such as this.  Kurama had gathered a certain number of what the human in him would call friends.  Keiko had come to be one of those friends; even Youko Kurama would not betray that bond.  So he had offered her comfort, knowing that she trusted him enough to take it.  

     As he sat with her, he could feel the angry gaze of Kuwabara from across the room.  The boy's rage was as clear as day, washing like boiling waves across Kurama's spirit.  Kurama had to hold back a smug smile.  Yuusuke was more powerful than Kuwabara, and even in his anger presently the orange-haired boy did not intimidate Kurama.  He had seen what the boy could accomplish in battle, but he knew also what HE was capable of.  A fight between them wouldn't last long… if it came to that, he'd have to get creative to have any fun.

     Even as Kurama was speaking soft, comforting words to the girl in his arms, Kuwabara seemed to get even angrier, looking ready to march across the room at the fox.  In a moment when no one else in the room was watching, Kurama flashed the boy a cold smirk, hugging Keiko a bit more.  The taunt had its desired effect, and Kuwabara's eyes narrowed, and he started to make his way across the room.  Even though Kurama hadn't planned on moving, it ended up not being necessary, as Shizuru made a quick movement and caught her brother's arm, effectively halting his march.  The siblings shared a few quiet words, and it seemed much more through expressions, and the younger finally growled and glared at Kurama, turning to leave the room.  The elder sighed, walking calmly, though with purpose, over to where the others sat.

     She spoke in a composed, yet authoritative tone.  "Hey, Keiko, why don't you help me in the kitchen for a bit?"  She made sure her eyes stayed soft at the girl, not wanting to upset her any more than she already was.  

     Keiko sniffed and looked up at Shizuru, quickly disengaging herself from Kurama's arms, wiping at her cheeks.  She nodded, making her voice as strong and steady as possible, which wasn't very.  "Of course, Shizuru, I… I'll head right there now."  She stood up, smoothing her skirt, and thanked Kurama quietly before making her way into the kitchen.  

     When Kurama stood, he found his way blocked by a deadly serious looking young woman.  Taking on his soft, unassuming tone, he asked, "Did you need something, Shizuru?"  He stood waiting patiently.

     "I may not know details, but I know something's going on, and I don't think you should be here right now," she spoke quietly and evenly, but it was clear she meant to enforce her opinion if she found the action necessary.  Whatever the cause of the feelings she was sensing, they meant trouble.  Kurama couldn't stay on and perpetuate it, not right now.

     The fox seemed to stare into her eyes for a small eternity.  His gaze, though of veiled intent, was calculating and cunning; he meant to determine how much of a threat he was waging against.  Knowing that her stubbornness would rival that of anyone he knew, Kurama decided that now was not the time to press, to prematurely show his hand.  He nodded politely to her, speaking softly and calmly, as if she hadn't subtly threatened him.  "Very well, I should be on my way soon, as it happens.  Sayonara, Shizuru-chan."  He purposefully spoke her name with a less formal address, reminding her that he was not merely a 17-year-old human boy.  

     When she just nodded, he walked around her and out the door with a word to no one else.  Shizuru sighed slightly, and headed into the kitchen to make sure Keiko was all right.  It was going to be a long day.

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Close my eyes to the stillness, darkness seeking light

Finding solitude in the shadows of the night.

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     As soon as he walked in the door, Kurama could smell the rice cooking and sashimi being prepared for dinner.  His mother enjoyed cooking, especially for her Shuiichi.  She doted on him much like a wife would a husband who works a lot, though obviously the roles were still quite different.  So set was she in her ways with him, that even after she knew her fears were true, and the demon inside her son had come out, Shiori still cared for him and saw to it that his every need was met.  He was her world, and she made sure it was obvious.  Even with the new husband and son approaching the picture, Shiori had talked to him a few times about how much she loved him, how no other Shuiichi could take his place in her heart.  Part of him had believed her, clung to hope that they would stay happy as a family despite the addition and adjustments.  That part of him possessed his soul, his deeper emotions.  The rest of him, stronger, more self-reliant, knew that he could trust no one.  She said these things now, but would succumb like any other weak human would to the pressure and ease of accepting those two and ignoring him.  

     That debate didn't matter right now.  At the moment, he was looking after purely his own interests, and Shiori played a small part in them.  Yet even that small part was important in its own way, evidenced by the inviting scent of food in the air of the house.  Kurama smiled to himself; he could make the food by himself, but it was better when she made it, nicer.  With a smile and a pointed sniff of the air, he entered the kitchen where his mother was finishing the food.  "It smells wonderful," he said from the doorway, leaning lightly against the side of the frame.  

     Shiori looked over her shoulder at him, smiling.  She knew what he was; yet she reacted to him just as if he was her son.  He **was** her son.  She gestured to the other room, "Go ahead and sit down, Shuiichi, it's almost ready."  She turned back to the food, still smiling.

     Kurama nodded, walking over to the low table and sitting down at it.  A few moments later Shiori brought over a plate of sashimi and a bowl of rice for each of them.  There was already a pot of tea and cups on the table.  They ate peacefully for several minutes, neither wanting to break the comforting stillness.  It was Shiori who broke the silence, knowing from where he had come that afternoon.  "How did things go at the wake?" she asked tentatively in her soft, quiet voice.  Kurama had always found her voice soothing, like a swatch of silk amongst sandpaper pieces.  She adjusted the sprigs of lavender he'd given her, sitting on the table.  He kept a garden of all sorts of flowers for her; it had been an easy way to humanize his abilities, and make her happy at the same time.

     Putting aside his food, he watched her with the flowers.  He could see how she treated him in the gentle way she moved each blossom in its place.  She brought to them the same kind of caring devotion that she'd lavished on him for his whole life with her.  She was the one human he felt he could count on, could trust.  He wondered briefly if she'd ever know how much that meant to him, how important she really was.  When she looked up at him expectantly, he smiled and told her some of what had transpired at Yuusuke's apartment earlier, but not enough to worry her.

     She seemed satisfied enough by what he shared, telling him not to worry about the dished, and started cleaning up after the meal.  Kurama changed out of his more formal clothes and headed out to his garden spot in jeans and a t-shirt.  Even more soothing than Shiori's voice was working with his plants.  The moment he stepped outside, their blossoms turned toward him, as they would move themselves to find the sun.  Vine and leaf waved in an unperceivable breeze as they greeted his approach.  Kurama smiled at the welcome, feeling an acceptance that he could find nowhere else in the world around him.  He had made these plants, and they loved him.  He stroked their petals and touched the leaves, speaking softly to them as he checked over each plant.  Rarely were there any dead leaves on his work, though blossoms, by nature, pass over their short lives after a time.  These he painlessly plucked away, making room for more nourishment to the other, healthier parts of the plant.

     Many of the plants and flowers that he chose to sire in this soil were not by their nature native to Japan.  Nor, by the average climate the country experienced, should they even necessarily survive.  But their colors were vibrant, their presence a daily wonder for Shiori.  Shuiichi always received acclaim for his biological feat, though Kurama merely cultured the flowers for a kind of company.  He indeed had few outlets for his abilities that would not result in his being labeled or discovered.

     When he had finished his tender care for his creations and dependants, he stood, wiping the dirt from his hands and knees, and walked back inside.  Shiori was now sitting reading a book, a sight that made Kurama smile.  She looked so peaceful.  Not wishing to stay in his soiled clothes, he headed to the bathroom by his room to shower.

     Getting the water just shy of scalding hot, Kurama stepped in and allowed the cleansing flow to sooth his tensed muscles.  He got through the necessary work of washing his body and hair, then leaned his arms on the wall behind the faucet and let the water beat against his back and shoulders.  It amazed him how something so nearly painful felt so good.  He slicked back some hair that had fallen into his face, the water pushing it back the rest of the way.  Unconsciously, he was serving a double purpose by letting himself be scourged by the hot water.  By now, it had eased his body, relaxed him from a tense day; but still he stood there, burning under the shower.  He needed the pain, needed the release.  Perhaps cleansing was the proper word.  Cleansing his soul.  At that thought, he found himself reaching to turn off the water.  He didn't need cleansing.  His conscience was completely clear.

     Mostly this was because the part of hi that was thinking about it HAD no conscience.  Only his human soul bothered him with such annoyances, and he could ignore that if he really needed to.  Water off, he wrung out his long hair, leaving it behind his shoulders to dry.  Opening the door in front of the shower stall, he grabbed a towel from the rack and wrapped it around his waist.  As soon as he had secured it, however, a searing jolt racked its way through his head.  The pain forced him to his knees as he held his head, eyes closed tightly in a wince.  It felt as if something was screaming impossibly loudly inside his brain, but he heard no sound, only felt the agony.  His fingers gripped his hair in fistfuls, clinging and pulling to try to stop the onslaught.  

     His breath came ragged in the steamy room.  "Can't breathe," he gasped, letting go of his head long enough to shakily push himself up off of the floor of the bathroom.  His eyes still closed tight and swaying on his feet from the renting headache, he fumbled his way towards the window and managed to get it open, allowing fresh, cool air to flow in around his heated body.  He took a deep breath, holding onto the windowsill for support as the pain began to subside.  The steam rose in curls around him, pushed upward and out by the cooler air from outside.  Kurama felt caught in between.

     When he'd caught his breath and his head cleared enough for him to walk, he shut the window, its cool air having already melted the fog from the mirror beside him.  He looked at his reflection; haunted, almost foreign eyes stared back at him.  The he noticed it… the eyes weren't green.  They were golden; Youko's eyes.  

     He stepped back, startled, but as soon as he blinked, the image had reverted to normal.  He stared into his own green eyes for a few moments, as if entreating the mirror to perform a magic color trick once more.  Nothing happened, and he passed it off as being a product of an achy head's imagination.  He hadn't taken a drink from the Fruit of the Previous Life in more than a day; there was no reason for something like that to happen now.  He was seeing things.

     With a tired sigh, he left the bathroom and returned to his bedroom, the next door down.  He closed the door and walked to his closet, pulling out a set of clothes for the evening and dressing carefully so as not to possibly upset his head again.  He had no clue what had caused the headache, but he would take no chances on making it start up again.

     He sat down on the edge of his bed once finished and held a hand to his forehead, making sure the pain was completely gone.  There had to be some kind of significance to it, but try as he might, he could think of nothing that made sense.  Through his thoughts he heard a sound like a whisper in the wind, and the soft landing of stealthy feet on his windowsill.  He looked up to see Hiei seated in his now open window.

     The fire demon looked at him with a scowl that was all too familiar on his face.  "You've been attracting far too much attention to yourself, lately, fox."

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**A/N:**  Alright, so I've become evil with cliffhangers… gomen?  Sorry this took so long, school's evil.  But it's long again… is that good?  Sheesh, it's nearly 9 pages on Word, and was 14 written out!!  Oy.  So, review, please…  

I will remind people again that there will be NO yaoi of ANY kind in this fiction.  I don't write that kind of story… As for the rating change, it is MOSTLY for blood and gore and death that you all love… Mostly.  You'll see what I mean later.

-Draith


	6. Voices

**A/N:** I know this took me months. Go ahead… just shoot me. I've had a long summer. 

**Disclaimer:** I don't own Yu Yu Hakusho, nor any character, place, item, etc held therein. I own the poem lines in the things. That's about it. The plot is original as in I thought it up on my own, but if someone else did it already, then oh well, I didn't know.

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**Chapter 6: Voices**

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"But Koenma, sir, you know how stubborn he can be!"

"Exactly why you must keep track of him, Botan. We can't allow him to make any rash decisions." Spirit World had seen Kuwabara's reaction to Kurama's presence at Yuusuke's wake, and was alerted to the risk of his consequent actions. A vengeful friend could be a force to be reckoned with, but Kuwabara wasn't ready to fight anyone just yet. It wouldn't be wise to pit him against Kurama, even to talk.

Botan nodded finally, knowing as well as Koenma the horrible possible outcomes of a confrontation; especially after Yuusuke had bee so badly beaten. Tears welled in her eyes and threatened to fall to the cloud-painted floor. Botan wished she were so simply among the clouds right at that very moment… She could be flying free without having to think about her job, her friends, her loss. She had known Yuusuke was special since she first encountered him, and even with his attitude as it was, had always enjoyed working with him. She had cared about him as a friend. They had all been through a lot, and come through it together.

Botan let out a heavy sigh, trying her best to focus on her job, and take the weighty burden of responsibility, as she knew she had to. With a soft, resigned voice, and all of the determination she could muster at the moment, she asked, "What do you want me to do?"

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Man's darkest indulgence A demon's rite of passage

Red as the rose Both flow the same

Differences lost in the melee All end up alike

The only thing uniting the lives of these is pain.

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He had just begun to collect his thoughts when the light sound of soft footfalls reached his sensitive hearing. Looking up, he was greeted by the sight of Hiei, already seated on the windowsill. The fire demon looked more annoyed than usual, and Kurama could tell that annoyance was directed at him. So he had been keeping track. Just as well.

"Good afternoon, Hiei," he greeted quietly, sounding not quite as tired as he felt.

"Hn," came the curt reply. "You've been attracting far too much attention to yourself, fox."

"Might I ask what you mean?"

Hiei sat there, providing Kurama a look of warning. "It doesn't take much effort to track your recent actions, Kurama. What are you trying to accomplish?" The question was only half sincere, the other half Hiei's traditional insulting and sarcastic tone.

Kurama returned the glare with a cool expression. He stood from the bed, calmly and methodically plucking his towel from the floor and placing it over the drying rod near the wall. He didn't turn his attention back to Hiei until he had sat down on the bed once again. His features were calm, his green eyes calculating. He knew the look only annoyed Hiei further, and had chosen it accordingly. "Why are you here, Hiei?" he asked, completely ignoring the other's question.

The fire demon blinked in surprise. Kurama was not typically one to ignore others. Something strange was going on with him, but what _was_ it? Had the tournament changed him that much? No… His encounter with his past had only seemed to temper him up until now. If anything, Kurama was calmer and more respectful in many ways, despite a gain in confidence. Then why the sudden change now? Hiei had no qualms killing humans, they deserved as much as anyone else; but he had not expected the death of the Detective. True, he didn't mourn the loss, but he had respected Yuusuke on some levels, and probably would not have killed him. Then again, if he was being arrested again…

"I came to warn you about subtlety, Kurama. You are sorely lacking it." He didn't enjoy repeating himself, but the fox was simply not listening.

With a chillingly tranquil and meaningful look, Kurama responded, "Who told you I was trying to be subtle?" He was clearly upset that Hiei would question his methods. The brief visit was already taking a downhill turn.

Even more annoyed than he was at first, Hiei growled slightly as he stood up, preparing to make his exit out the window. "Fine, Kurama, do want you want, how you want. See if I care. But remember this; if you drag me into it, the least bit, you will find the consequences of your actions." Without waiting for a response, he climbed out the window and disappeared in a black blur of speed.

A part of Kurama recoiled at the threat, actually startled into a brief moment of careful thought over the situation. Barely several seconds had passed, however, when the rest of him froze the new branch of consideration, cutting it off from his mind's life flow. _I shouldn't be making him angry… he's my friend,_ he thought. Though no sooner had he than another frigid blast forced the guilt from his thoughts. He felt trapped in an ice storm, a brain freeze where part strove to force out the other. Brain freeze… he realized then that his headache had slowly returned, sneaking in on his confusion.

Crying out, he was once again driven to his knees by the blinding jolt through his head. It seared with a cold lightning's burn, pounding like a soundless thunder through his ears. Strands of crimson loosened and ripped free of their natural bonds as Kurama gripped and grasped, trying in vain to lessen the pain. His eyes felt like they'd been set ablaze, and he opened them only to discover he could no longer see. Blindly, he searched the floor around him, finding and crawling his way towards his desk, and the drawer he sought. More than once his advance was paused as the pain took him to the floor.

Once he finally reached the leg of the chair marking his destination, he used it to pull himself up to a kneeling position. Pausing to collect himself as much as possible through the blinding fog and ceaseless pounding, Kurama grasped the handle to the drawer and pulled, digging through the contents so neatly arranged inside, throwing onto the floor everything that wasn't his goal. The search in that drawer proving futile, he tossed the empty wooden box behind him with a growl of urgency, then attacked the next one with renewed vigor. By the time he located what he needed, every drawer in the desk had been ravaged and tossed aside for its uselessness.

Digging through the last drawer, his fingers ran over the smooth glass, always cool to the touch, no matter the room's temperature. As soon as his fingers closed on the vial, it seemed to come alive in a blazing flame of heated vision in front of him, shining impossibly bright before his unseeing eyes. He had felt the power of the fruit's juices before, even inside the bottle, but this was different. It was calling to him… stirring a deep desire within his very being. He HAD to drink it.

As if they were moving of their own volition, is hands slowly opened the top of the bottle and began raising it to his lips. Panic flooded inside him, and his heart began to race even faster than before. He was no longer in control of his actions; each movement was borne out of pure need and desire as he gulped down a dose of the Fruit of the Previous Life.

For several moments he sat frozen in place, not so much for the fluid's effect, as out of his own anxieties and panic taking over what little control he may have had left. He was prepared to wait…the elixir always took time to take effect…

Then, almost too soon, he heard it. Silence. Not the thunderous silence and quiet, searing pain that had been splitting his head in twain, but real, peaceful, silence. His breathing had slowed, and his heart rate finally settled down as he calmly capped the bottle, replacing it in the now-empty correct drawer, closed it and stood. Cool eyes took in the room around him, surveying the results of the recent turmoil with superior satisfaction.

"This is better," he said aloud to the empty room. And with a flash of silver, he was through the window, needing to be outside of the caged walls his human self had appropriated for them. Needing to be free.

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White roses for you, love, that you may silence the bane

Though their white perfection cannot hide away this pain.

White poppies for your sleepless nights while you wait for me

Rest, no consolation, holds no promise you'll be free.

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It never ceased to amaze Keiko how messy the Urameshi house could get when she wasn't around to clean it for them. Yuusuke always managed to double the mess that Atsuko created in her daze, instead of trying to clean. For every bottle, numerous as they were, there was a piece of clothing, both dirty and clean, a plate, a shoe, or any other random article that he happened to no longer have an immediate use for. Yuusuke was so messy.

Yuusuke…

Keiko sank down to the floor amidst the mass of items she was collecting to put away or throw out. A silent tear ran down her cheek, as she couldn't hold it back anymore. For so long she'd kept herself from breaking down… being strong for everyone else while her heart shattered within. Once that solitary tear broke through her wall, the dam collapsed and a torrent poured out of her. Keiko curled herself into a ball and cried until her throat was sore and no more tears would come, no matter how hard she tried to make them. She wished she could still force the tears out… Maybe if she cried long enough, the pain would go away…

Her heart threatened to beat out of her chest, held by the vice grip of icy pain. For a while longer she lay there, crying dry tears, unable to give it up and force herself to stop; though she eventually let herself become so upset that she had to get up and run to the bathroom. When her stomach finally finished heaving, and she was calmer, she flushed the water and rinsed her mouth and face in the sink. The mirror showed her how pale her features had become, looking like a ghost of the girl she used to be.

_Life is so different with him gone…_

Realizing she was shivering, Keiko rubbed her arms and left the ghastly visage behind, walking back to the main rooms of the house. There was so much left to do. She began to again gather the empty bottles, carefully arranging them in a box so the glass wouldn't break. As she reached the bottom of a pile in the corner of the room, she was surprised to find an unopened bottle, one still filled with sake. She had seen sake before, of course, and had found bottles there before, but for some reason this one was different.

Abandoning her task, she walked over to sit down on the floor again, leaning her back against the wall and settling the bottle on her crossed legs. Sniffling a bit, she sat and stared at it, studying every inch of the glass, the label, the liquid inside, and the way it reflected the soft light from the window. The entire bottle seemed to glow in front of her, calling to her, inviting her to take a drink.

Wiping at her freshly wet eyes, Keiko lifted the bottle in her hands, rolling it with her fingers, transfixed by the sparkle it offered to her with each small movement. Maybe… one drink wouldn't hurt anyone. One drink wouldn't even make her drunk. The bottle stopped rolling suddenly, as Keiko stared at it. _Drunk_. If she drank enough… maybe she wouldn't feel the pain… for at least a while.

"I can't…" she hated how broken her voice sounded to her own ears. Standing, she set the bottle down and paced back and forth past it. "It's not right to drink it, I'm too young… And it does terrible things to people…" She'd seen the effects it had on Atsuko so often, and even Yuusuke the couple of times he had had it. He'd been so drunk his breath had smelled like his mouth was rotting. He had walked to Keiko's house in the pouring rain, stumbling and lilting with each step he took. The minute he saw her he made some lewd comment she'd taken care to forget and grabbed her. Though she'd slapped him then, Keiko smiled at the memory as if it was her favorite. She would give anything for eve that moment to return to her present reality. If she could just have Yuusuke back, she'd deal with anything he did to her.

If only.

Once again her emotions proved too much for her to handle, and she sank to the floor in her grief. Her mind screamed at the injustice of her loss, but outside she could only sob. Through the watery haze of welled up tears, she spotted the bottle of sake next to her. Without another deliberation, she uncorked the top and gulped down as much as she could before her throat started to burn and coughs racked her chest.

Leaning against the wall again, she took a smaller swig that burned no less. She would make herself drink it. She would make the pain disappear, if only for the night. With any luck, she would pass out and get some sleep at last; she hoped it would be dreamless.

_Oh, Yuusuke… what am I going to do without you?_

_------------------------------------------------------------------------_

**A/N:** that's right… forgot to warn you it's my shortest chapter yet. Send a review if you feel led.

-Draith


	7. Memories

**A/N:** I fear to count the days/weeks/months since I last updated this, and I realize this chapter is pitifully short, but I've grown insanely busy and this is all I could produce I'm sorry to everyone, and I doubt anyone will read this now, as it's been too long. Sigh I was depressed when I wrote some of this, so yeah… that fed into it.

**Disclaimer:** I don't own Yu Yu Hakusho, nor any character contained therein. I do own the plot (well, the bunnies do…), and the poem lines I keep inserting. That's it.

Enjoy?

_**Chapter Seven:**_ **MEMORIES**

_I find you in the past in broken memories_

_ shattered like glass_

_Picture imperfect misread and deluded_

_ Is it really you I see? or is it only me…_

It was the smallest of sounds, causing no echo against the smooth, damp stone of the cave walls. Indeed, it was barely noticeable, but the short, sensitive hairs lining his ears picked up the slight vibration of sound waves quite well. He noted the noise, resisting the natural urge to allow his ear to swivel around towards the sound, which would have given away his awareness. No, he must act as if he had heard nothing; keep to his task of sorting baubles and trinkets on the shaky wooden table. He let the small pieces clink together at times, covering any accidental noises made behind him. He enjoyed this game.

This was his favorite, actually, though he preferred to practice the opposing side to the one on which he now played. The sound came again, this time from the opposite side of the cave, catching his other ear, which he was forced, once again, to control. He plucked a small vase from the table, enjoying the smooth, round feel of the silver sides, and the way the jewels caught the flickering candlelight that was the only illumination in the space. It was one of the shiniest pieces they had collected. He adored shiny things. He almost lost himself in the texture, the refracted light driven to prisms by the crystals imbedded in the metal. Almost forgot that to which he was supposed to be paying attention… almost.

He smiled a self-satisfied smile. There was no sound, yet he was fully aware and would win the game. Yes… he just had to wait… just a few… more… In an instant, he whirled around, robes splaying outwards with the sudden motion, and saw exactly what he knew he'd see, exactly where he knew he'd see it, and at the precise moment he'd predicted. There was one problem, however, with his perfect knowledge and perfect execution of the plan.

The other player knew his moves all too well.

Youko Kurama found himself pinned to the floor before he could blurt out any word of exclamation at his victory. The winged form tackled him on a pile of leaves and straw, grinning from pointed ear to pointed ear. Powerful hands held his shoulders flat to the soft mat, as the grinning mouth loosed a victorious laugh. "I almost had you…" said the fox to the bat.

Kuronue just smiled indulgently, as one would to a child convinced he was right when obviously wrong. "Of course you did," he replied, his tone carrying much more sarcasm than his expression, "you always 'almost' have me… I'm simply better than you are." The bat demon accompanied his claim with a haughty raising of his chin.

With a dismissive grunt, Youko grabbed the other's shoulders and rolled the two of them, reversing the holds. He growled in annoyance when his partner in crime only smirked up at him. He hated that he was so easily taunted, but every day it was the same. He was about to lecture the bat on his overconfidence when he saw the glimmer near Kuronue's vest pocket. It was more than just the glint of the crimson-jeweled amulet that he always wore; he knew the shine of Kuronue's family heirloom well. This was a prize brought back…

Youko's eyes gleamed with desire. "What did you find, Kuronue?" he asked, voice soft in reverence for the new addition to their trove.

Kuronue could barely contain his amusement with how controlled Youko always was by treasure. Surely enough, after several more moments of watching the fox's wide, questioning, expectant eyes, the older youkai erupted into good-natured laughter. "You are priceless, fox…" With a glance at the pitiful expression, though still chuckling, he took pity on the youko and reached into the inside pocket of his vest. Watching the round, yellow eyes grow wider with each slow inch he pulled back out, Kuronue paused before letting the shimmering gold chain lift free of its hold. The quiet, reverent gasp told him he'd done well to please the youko's need.

"It's… so shiny…" Youko breathed softly, carefully taking the chain into his hand and moving the prize in the candlelight to let every cut display its glint of glory. He sat up then, studying the gold and forgetting about Kuronue completely. Completely, that is, until the chain was lifted from his hands. He started to cry out in protest, but long fingers set the chain around his neck, turning a nearby mirror so he could see himself in it. There was always a mirror about their lair; Youko adored mirrors especially. The vain fox admired his own reflection, still adjusting the gold so that it set forth the most shine as physically possible. The things Kuronue stole for him always enhanced his beauty. He was perfectly capable of obtaining his own baubles, but the bounty was sweeter if it was also a present.

Kuronue moved behind his friend with a grin. "Happy, my fox?" His smile widened as Youko nodded and absently affirmed that he was. Their reflections were so different, Kuronue's hair a dark shadow behind the other's silvery locks. That hair and his bright golden eyes made Youko a piece of treasure himself.

Staring into the mirror, Youko's attentions were focused solely on his gift, fingering each link with loving care. Again, he felt the cool metal on his skin, even as his own reflection was all that the mirror displayed. Beautiful gold, now tarnished, did not glimmer the same, fading as the memory of his past left him; so cold. His gaze never left the glass, hoping for one more image, another apparition, no matter how brief it lasted. His heart ached at other memories, frozen in time and mind, which he could not shake.

For the mirror's part, it chose not to display more painful images from the fox's memories. Just as well. No amount of thinking could bring his friend back to life. Youko finally turned from the mirror, letting the chain clatter to the floor as he gazed into the emptiness more profound than the blackness of the physical cave around him. The bamboo trap that caught Kuronue had forever ensnared a piece of his heart; it would never allow him to fully heal. Closing his eyes once more against the void around and inside of him, he sat down on the bed of leaves and straw that, though thinned with age and matted from wear, still existed on the floor. With a shiver against his chilled heart, Youko curled into a ball, pulling a blanket of fur over his lithe form as he desperately tried to banish any memories from his mind in trade for a few hours of peaceful sleep. He knew at least the rum he'd had earlier would soon take hold, if nothing else. He just needed a rest.

-Draith


End file.
